


Severus and the Sex-Kitten

by abstractconcept



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Animalistic!Harry, Cat!Harry, Cat!play?, Chan, Filth, Jealous!Snape, M/M, Master/Pet, Owner/Pet, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 11:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10333682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractconcept/pseuds/abstractconcept
Summary: Harry is a super-powered cat. No, really. I thought up lots of other summaries, but that’s pretty succinct and accurate. Only a bit cracky though, I promise!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alisanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/gifts).



> A ficlet (er, though as joanwilder pointed out, at more than 7k she’d say it's more like a fic) for alisanne; Happy Holidays! Thank you for allowing me so much leeway with your request! Every now and then you just get a bunny that won’t let go, you know? I love you and I really enjoyed writing this, except for the pre-posting jitters I got near the end. :D

  
Severus paced the floor, his rich velvet robes kissing his ankles.  
  
Lucius, who was reclining on the couch and lazily eating figs, told him, “You fret too much.”  
  
“There is no such thing.” Severus had reason to be fretful. He _always_ had reason to be fretful. The Dark Lord had risen from the dead, and Severus knew the man viewed him as a rival and a threat. Being ‘fretful’—or at least careful—had kept Severus alive. But he could hardly tell Lucius all of that—Lucius was one of the Dark Lord’s most faithful minions, and not to be trusted. He was also one of Severus’ closest friends.  
  
“Cheer up,” the man said. “I’ve bought you a little something for Christmas.”  
  
Severus perched on the sofa beside his ‘friend.’ “Indeed?” he said warily.  
  
Lucius laughed richly—the way he did everything. “You are such a suspicious bastard,” the man said, almost fondly. He nodded to a footman—or a bellhop—or a butler or whatever the man was, and the man exited. “It’s a very exotic and exciting pet,” Lucius told Severus. “I wanted to keep it for myself, but my wife had a fit. She’s so _tedious_ when she goes into hysterics.”  
  
Severus didn’t remark, but watched as the door opened again and two servants came in, carrying a large glass box. “What the devil is that?” Severus said, peering at the thing. “It looks like a boy—but it has ears like a cat!”  
  
“And a _tail_ ,” Lucius said with great relish. “But it _is_ a boy. It’s only that he was blessed at birth.”  
  
“With a _tail?_ ” Severus said distastefully. “It sounds like one of those barmy foreign religions where they worship you if you’re mutant enough to have an extra nose or something.”  
  
“No, no, it’s nothing like that. Apparently it really was some sort of blessing—a _spell_ ,” Lucius elucidated. “No one seems to know where he received it, but he’s been blessed since birth—with beauty and a very special power.”  
  
“I’d hardly call him beautiful. He’s a twiggy little cat-mutant,” Severus sniffed. “How much did you pay for this piece of rubbish? I’d say someone took you to the cleaners.”  
  
Lucius tapped on the glass box with the handle of his cane, and the cat-boy woke and stretched. “Hello, there,” Lucius purred.  
  
The boy blinked huge green eyes at them, and Severus was astonished; awake, the boy exuded an ingenuous beauty. His skin was everything it should be—alabaster dusted with rose—his lips full and perfect, his little nose pert, his hair thick and black and glossy. Even his petulant, elfish chin was sheer perfection.   
  
He gave another languid stretch, contorting his lovely body into impossibly erotic shapes as he worked out all the kinks and knots, even pressing his face to his knee and looking up at Severus from one fluttering eye.   
  
Severus wanted to fuck him right then and there. He wanted to yank him out of that box and toss him down on Lucius Malfoy’s sofa and screw him six ways from Sunday.  
  
“And he’s mine?” Severus murmured, stunned.  
  
Lucius sighed. “Like I said; my wife wouldn’t let me keep him.”  
  
“Thank you,” Severus said with a small smile.  
  
oOoOoOo  
  
“Wow,” Regulus said, staring. “I’d heard he was a stunner, but _wow_.”  
  
“Indeed.”  
  
The boy came with his own collar with a little gold medallion dangling down, inscribed with his name— _Harry Potter_. He also came with a little water dish which, like the collar, was emerald green. Severus and Regulus stared, fascinated, as Harry drank, his pink tongue flicking into the bowl.  
  
“How come he doesn’t have a food dish?”  
  
“Food, unfortunately, must come from my fingertips,” Severus informed the man. Harry would not eat from a plate or dish, and would not touch a spoon or fork. Lucius insisted only the very best ‘pets’ were so disciplined; Severus was inclined to think the boy merely stubborn.   
  
To demonstrate, Severus went and got a small sweet from a jar on the counter. “Treat,” he said, and Harry arrived instantly, as if by teleportation, sitting at Severus’ feet and radiating sweet obedience.  
  
Severus held the treat out and Harry nipped it up, licking Severus’ fingers affectionately.  
  
He also would not talk, though he would mewl, trill, whimper or make various soft noises of pleasure when being petted. Severus didn’t find Harry’s muteness disagreeable; it was far better than having a brat who would refuse to shut up.  
  
There were, however, other problems.  
  
“What a dazzler,” Regulus remarked as Harry finished his water and flashed the man a smile.  
  
“Yes,” Severus said doubtfully, watching Harry arch and slink to Regulus on all fours, winding in and out of his legs. Severus had to sigh; it was the third time this week.  
  
Along with his beauty, Harry had been granted a rare gift. Because the blessing made him so irresistible, he’d also been granted a protection—the power to incapacitate, or even kill anyone who hurt him. It supposedly happened by reflex, a magical, instinctive response that lashed out when someone pushed Harry too far.  
  
But with Harry, there was no such thing as too far.  
  
Severus and Regulus withdrew to the other room with Harry dogging their heels. Severus offered his guest a drink, which he accepted, but it was obvious what he’d _rather_ help himself to. As they arranged themselves on the couch, Harry leapt lightly up between them, stretching elegantly so that his head was in Regulus’ lap and his feet were in Severus’.   
  
Severus knew what came next.  
  
“Aren’t you a pretty thing?” Regulus crooned, stroking Harry’s head. Harry purred with satisfaction, shamelessly pushing his face against Regulus’ palm, his dark ears twitching.  
  
“Yes,” Severus intoned. “He is a pretty thing.”  
  
“What happens if you piss him off, again?”  
  
“He pumps two thousand volts of electricity into your body through whatever body part is currently touching him, causing your hair to catch fire, your blood to boil, and your eyeballs to melt out of your head,” Snape replied peevishly.  
  
Regulus abruptly yanked his hand away from Harry’s head. “ _Seriously?_ ”  
  
Severus gave a snort. “I don’t know. Apparently the only person who ever abused him that badly didn’t live to explain the various horrific tortures inflicted on his body. But Lucius says the boy’s only done it once.”  
  
“Oh.” Regulus relaxed a little.  
  
And then Potter, that fluffy little bastard, went spooling and mewling and kneading his way right into Regulus’ lap. Severus could tell what was on the boy’s mind, because his sinuous tail was thrashing, as it was wont to do. Regulus seemed to be under some sort of charm, watching helplessly, unable to resist the boy’s wiles. Harry put his hands, delicately, on Regulus’ chest, resting them there as he leaned up, his sultry lips parting as he eagerly tilted his head back—  
  
“ _No,_ ” Severus said sharply, tapping the boy hard on the nose just before Harry could kiss the man.  
  
Harry clapped both hands to his stricken nose, eyes wide and wounded. He sank back down on his heels instantly, blinking in a stunned sort of way.  
  
“Oh, Severus, that was rather harsh,” Regulus began, but Severus interrupted him.  
  
  
“Shut up. You’re just dazed and randy and stupid. Now, boy, what have I told you? What is the rule?”  
  
Harry made a petulant sound.  
  
“ _None of that without my permission first._ You are mine. You ask my permission. God knows it’s not too much to ask. Wanton little scoundrel.”  
  
“I’m sure he’ll get better. It just takes training.”  
  
“Well, I’m glad you’ve agreed to help me out with that, but I fear we’ll be here all night.”  
  
Regulus smiled roguishly; not for the first time, Severus idly considered that with the addition of an eye-patch, the man would look every inch a pirate.   
  
“No worries; my calendar is completely clear. I can stay here all night if necessary,” he added with a lingering look at Harry.  
  
“Oh, _good,_ ” Severus replied dryly.  
  
oOoOoOo  
  
“Well, you _did_ have a busy day, didn’t you?” Severus said as he carried his trophy upstairs.   
  
Harry was inclined to be sulky, still red-eyed from bouts of crying and minor spankings for the day’s misbehavior. Severus didn’t believe they were making progress at all. He’d tried everything from good, old-fashioned negative reinforcement to praising and promises of treats.   
  
It seemed the boy was just an inborn tart, made from birth to tempt and tease and get into bed with every man he could lay his hands on, except for the times when he couldn’t find a bed. He was _incorrigible._   
  
He grated on Severus; he’d _paid_ for the boy, the boy was _his_. What part of that was so difficult to understand? In exchange for room and board and sex and clothing and not getting beat upside his foolish head, all Severus asked was that the boy keep his bits to himself. And he couldn’t. It was like some kind of _compulsion_.   
  
Severus set Harry gently at the foot of the bed, where there was a bed of his own. Harry snuffled pitifully, his little hands balled up into fists as he rubbed at his tear-stained cheeks.  
  
Severus patted him brusquely. “You’ve hardly gone through anything that warrants such a lengthy bout of blubbering.”  
  
“Mmmnnn,” Harry ground out.   
  
“Mean? Am I? I’m strict; there’s a difference. And do you really mean to say I’m mean?” Harry continued to whimper, and Severus sighed. It was getting depressing, how long it was taking to convince Harry to attempt to talk. Severus had already had him the better part of the month.   
  
Snapping off the light, Severus crawled into bed. The boy was utterly untrainable. It just wasn’t working. He felt frustrated, even a little angry. Then something warm nudged his foot. “Harry,” he said in a warning voice.  
  
Harry made a sound, a hopeful, questioning sound, high-pitched and sort of bubbly.   
  
“All right, you can come up, then.”  
  
And in an instant, all was forgiven; Harry’s sulks had disappeared, melting away in the sunshine of his smile. He wrapped his arms around Severus, cuddling shamelessly. Severus petted him, using long strokes that started at the top of his head and went all the way down his back. Harry purred. “I’d like to tell you you’re a good boy,” Severus said, almost more to himself than to Harry. “But you’ve been anything but a good boy. You’ve been an aggravating boy.”  
  
Harry pretended not to understand this, but Severus shrewdly suspected he understood every single word. Instead he continued to cuddle, making soft cooing noises and doing that thing with his hands . . .   
  
Severus watched sleepily as Harry’s hands made a magic of their own. He wasn’t entirely sure whether or not there was real magic in them, but they were certainly skilled either way. They danced in swirls like an Arabian scarf dance, fluttering and shimmering and just grazed his skin here and there, caressing his body in long, cool strokes.  
  
Severus let them soothe him and scatter his troubles to the dark corners of the room.   
  
Harry stopped and smiled at him blindingly, some little nonsense word escaping between his pursed lips.   
  
“Oh, very well,” Severus said, opening his arms wide and allowing Harry to get as close to his body as possible and to coil himself round Severus. Harry planted a series of oh-so-innocent kisses on Severus’s nose and face. When this was permitted, it went further; Harry began to nuzzle his face against Severus’s body, pushing it all the way up Severus’s neck and grazing his face against Severus’, one side and then the other, again and again. It meant he wanted attention, but then, what _didn’t?_  
  
“All right,” Severus whispered. After all, he certainly didn’t object to enjoying carnal relations with the boy himself; it was only that he didn’t want anyone _else_ doing it, at least without asking.   
  
But this, he felt, as he undressed the lithe creature, this was what made everything worth it. Potter was stubborn, Potter was aggressive at times, and Potter was a first-rate slut, but . . . well, all of those things could be good in the right situations.  
  
Harry loved to be undressed; he could never get out of his robes fast enough, whether they were soft cotton or warm flannel or the finest silk. Harry was a nudist by inclination. When they were finally completely removed, he stretched his fingertips up as high as they would go, then sagged, then sank down and reached out in front of him, muscles straining. Then he tossed his head playfully, his hair dancing, and he smiled impishly at Severus to let him know the game was afoot.  
  
Severus pulled him close then, letting Harry giggle and squeal and try to get free. The object was to touch as much of Harry as possible—not hurt, but just touch. Harry was the one who decided when the game was over, and sometimes it lasted hours, Severus certain he’d got Harry’s knee five times already, but then Harry did love having the backs of his knees caressed.   
  
As Harry twisted and writhed on the bed, contorting into a little ball and then flattening himself out and trying to shimmy out from under Severus, Severus enjoyed the game in his own way. First he basked in the warmth of Harry’s back under his fingertips. He started with the tops of his shoulders and worked his way down, both hands flat on the boy’s beautiful skin, skimming along.   
  
Then Harry’s hips, ticklish and prone to surprising twists and shifts. Severus greedily caressed Harry’s coltish legs, working his way up and down, sometimes planting a quick kiss on a kneecap.   
  
Harry’s feet were ticklish as well, so of course Severus spent _extra_ time on them, plucking his toes like guitar strings again and again until Harry squealed and shrieked and thrashed and finally slumped, breathless. Generally that was the time Severus could steal a hurried, soft kiss from the arch of Harry’s foot, or sometimes a toe, though sometimes this set things off all over again.  
  
It was Harry’s front that began to bring them back to the erotic nature of things. There was nothing about Harry’s slender build, pink little nipples, taut stomach, and needy little prick that _wasn’t_ erotic. The boy was sex all over, which was generally how Severus liked sex.  
  
Tonight, Severus laved the boy with his tongue, first licking the side of his neck, his warm throat, following his jaw line. He paused to kiss Harry deeply, his tongue filling Harry’s mouth and overcoming its fluttery little suitor.   
  
And then, with a deep breath, he began to kiss his way down Harry’s body, kiss and touch and grope and nip. He tugged Harry’s pink nipples as the boy hissed, eyes gleaming with an ache he couldn’t express.   
  
Tummy next, soft and warm and now rigid as Harry stiffened, his whole body tightening up in anticipation of being touched in that _one_ spot.   
  
Severus took pity, licked him, the length of his cock, swept it into his mouth while Harry yipped and bent double so that his knees were pressed to Severus’ ears, and his hands were both buried in Severus’ hair, and his face was only inches away, his great green eyes misty and pleading.  
  
Severus reached up and stroked a warm cheek, and Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head as he came.   
  
Afterwards, Severus cleaned him up and tucked him back in and finally got into bed himself, exhausted. And Harry would be just as ill-trained tomorrow, with no end in sight. He looked down on Harry’s sleeping face and wondered how anyone so angelic-looking could be such a monstrous pain in the arse.  
  
He’d have to talk to Lucius, that was all.  
  
oOoOoOo  
  
“Go and find something to amuse yourself,” Severus told the boy when they arrived at the Manor. The adults have . . . adult things to discuss. I’m sure Draco has toys and things around here somewhere.”  
  
Lucius greeted him warmly in the conservatory. “Brandy?”  
  
“Yes, I suppose,” said Severus with bad grace.  
  
“Something wrong?”  
  
“Look, where did you get . . . that thing?”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because you ought to get your money back. Cat-boy is defective.”  
  
Lucius laughed. “What’s it done?”  
  
“Who’s it done,” Severus corrected morosely. “It’s like trying to train him to use a litter box, only . . .”  
  
“Oh, dear. Surely it can’t be that bad.”  
  
“Oh, _no._ In fact, in a matter of speaking, it’s very _good._ I’m certainly much more popular than I used to be,” Severus snapped. “Regulus has been to visit four times this week. Even Barty’s been trying to get me to come round for drinks. But he _must_ learn to control himself. His sexual appetite is unquenchable.”  
  
“Who—Barty?”  
  
“The _boy_. The defective, nymphomaniac cat-boy!”  
  
Lucius turned his head, but Severus could see his shoulders shaking with ill-repressed laughter. “You’re making too much of it.”  
  
“Tell that to the milkman!” Severus thundered.   
  
“Ahah—ahahaha! But a growing boy—needs—milk—” Lucius managed between unseemly blorts of laughter. Severus was going to put this moment in a Pensieve and make the man watch it the next time he was being snobbish.   
  
“I don’t think he needs that _much_ milk, nor that _kind_ ,” Severus countered curtly.  
  
“Oh, _dear._ ”  
  
“A platitude which would be much more effective if you weren’t grinning like the cat that ate the canary.”  
  
“He just needs a bit of training,” Lucius said.  
  
“What do you think I’ve been doing with Regulus the past week?”  
  
“I thought it indiscreet to ask.”  
  
“Pompous prick. When Harry tries something and I catch him, I bat his nose. Is there nothing more I can do?”  
  
“You could try a squirt of water,” Lucius suggested.  
  
“I _do_ wish you would take this seriously.”  
  
“Well, our options are limited. If the boy truly feels he’s in danger or if he really does not like what’s being done to him, the protective spell will activate and likely kill you.”  
  
“Ha!” Severus leaned against the wall. “So far I’m up to bending him over on my desk and giving him five strokes of a cane. I’m not sure I could provoke him into killing me, but I may well yet turn him into a raging masochist by the time I’m done.”  
  
“There’s your answer!”  
  
“What, bring him into the lifestyle? I’d prefer he knew how to talk first.”  
  
“No. I meant that you only punish him with things he ends up liking. What _doesn’t_ he like?”  
  
Severus shifted uncomfortably. “Being left alone, being ignored, being spoken to coldly . . . having to sleep in his own bed . . .”  
  
“There you have it. The next time he does something wrong, isolate him immediately. And try the others as well, to various degrees. Nothing to it! And when in need, squirt him or get him with a newspaper. I _swear_ by a rolled-up newspaper.”  
  
“Thank you. It might work,” Severus said as Lucius walked him out. “Now where’s that ruddy scamp got to?”  
  
“Might be playing with Draco; he’s out of school on holiday.” Severus exchanged a look with Lucius before groaning.  
  
They found the boys in the front room, on the floor by the fireplace, naked in its warm, rosy glow. Draco, the young master of the house, was looking less polished than usual, his silvery hair a bit mussed. Both boys were sweaty and had rosy little marks on their necks. Obviously, Harry had found a playmate.  
  
Harry was licking kittenishly—at Draco’s tongue. Draco hummed appreciatively at that, hands reaching up to thread through Harry’s dark hair.   
  
Much as he hated to let anyone else lay so much as a finger on Harry—well, Severus could hardly deny the voyeuristic pleasure of seeing the diminutive, cat-eared brunet and the dainty little blond licking each other.  
  
“Shall I get the newspaper?” Lucius murmured, eyes laughing, after they’d watched for several moments.  
  
Severus leaned against the doorway with a crooked smile. “In a minute,” he said.  
  
oOoOoOo  
  
“You know better. You can play innocent—not very well, mind you—but we both know the truth.”  
  
Harry made a pitiful little sound, but Severus did not acknowledge it. Only when Harry touched him, tugging at his robes, did Severus deign to brush the boy’s hand away.  
  
“No,” he said firmly. “You are being punished. You’ve been naughty.” He made to leave the room, and Harry tried to follow.  
  
“ _No,_ ” Severus snapped, pushing the boy away and trying to ignore his heartbreaking gaze. “The scene at the bookstore this afternoon was absolutely disgraceful. It’s bad enough that you spread your legs for anyone within shouting distance, but in public, as well? Do you have any idea what you’re doing to my reputation? I’m being cuckolded by an underage freak of nature! It’s utterly unacceptable!”  
  
Harry dropped to the floor, rolling over to show his belly in an expression of subservience, but Severus was having none of it.  
  
“You can sleep on the couch until you learn to act like a civilized—civilized—whatever you are!” the man said, stomping into his bedroom and slamming the door behind him.  
  
Harry let out a soft wail and scratched at the door.  
  
“And that’s not going to work until you learn to say _please!_ ” the man added, and went to bed.  
  
Harry cried outside his door for most of the night, but Severus hardened his heart and told himself the exercise was necessary.  
  
oOoOoOo  
  
Severus took a sip of his ale, feeling warm and comfortable. Harry was at the table across from him, struggling with his plate; his toad-in-the-hole was getting cold as he tried to navigate knife and fork. The boy made frustrated chittering noises, and this caused Severus to smile a little.  
  
Feeling magnanimous, Severus said, “Here, let me,” and cut Harry’s sausage into bite-sized pieces. “There, you can stop making sounds like a demented squirrel.”  
  
“Mmph!” Harry agreed, his mouth already full.  
  
He still hadn’t spoken anything that might actually be deemed language, but Severus was in too good of a mood to care.  
  
Outside the weather was nasty—all icy rain and blasts of wind—but in the warm, happy pub, a fire crackled, the food was good, and Severus’ pet was well-behaved.  
  
In fact, Harry had been at Severus’ side all evening without succumbing to anything more than the most cursory of flirtations, usually fluttering eyelashes or shy, lip-biting smiles.  
  
“You’ve been very good tonight,” Severus told him, ruffling his hair. “I’ll give you sweeties when we get home.”  
  
Harry beamed.   
  
Severus continued to watch, amused, as Harry scowled with ferocious concentration as he brought each bite to his mouth, occasionally dropping his sausage in his lap. Still, as long as that was the only sausage approaching the brat’s lap, Severus would hold his tongue.  
  
“I’m going to use the loo,” he told Harry a few minutes later. “Do you think you can continue to behave yourself? I shouldn’t be gone very long.”  
  
Harry nodded, distracted, and Severus felt a flush of warmth in his belly. _He nodded._ It was still non-verbal communication, but it was an acceptable and very human signal. It wasn’t pawing, howling, ankle-rubbing or any of the various other catlike behaviours Harry often exhibited. Snape petted the boy as he walked past to the loo. _Progress._  
  
Severus came out of the bathroom humming under his breath.  
  
Then he rounded the corner and saw Harry.  
  
The boy looked terrified, his green eyes growing wider every second. A hand was clamped around his throat and a snarling man loomed over him. The angry man shook Harry roughly. “Don’t you wink at _me_ like that, you little faggot!” he roared.   
  
Severus groaned. Apparently Harry hadn’t behaved. The man drew a beefy hand back to strike the boy, and Harry cowered.   
  
Severus was at his side in an instant, his wand out. He wasn’t even aware of having decided to cast a curse, when the man was lifted off his feet and thrown across the room. He took out a table and came to rest near the kitchen.  
  
Harry made an awed noise, and Severus took a shaky breath. He grabbed Harry’s hand. “Let’s get out of here,” he said quickly. “Before the Improper Use of Magic Department shows up.”  
  
He dragged Harry out of the pub at a dead run.  
  
It wasn’t until he got home that he realized Harry’s ‘ability’ should have taken care of the situation on its own. And yet it hadn’t. Was that because Severus’ quick thinking had headed it off at the pass—or was it because Harry had no such power at all?  
  
oOoOoOo   
  
Severus lounged on the sofa, Harry sprawled atop him, his rumpled, sleepy head resting on Severus’ chest. They’d just had a marathon sex session, and the whole world seemed dewy and beautiful, shining with some soft glow.   
  
Harry trilled softly, nuzzling Severus with a drowsy smile.  
  
Severus stroked his pretty little head. “Such a needy little furball,” he murmured.   
  
There was sharp rap on the front door. “Come in,” Severus said, wordlessly unlocking the door with a flick of his wrist, then letting his hand drop lazily to the floor.  
  
Lucius came in quickly, shutting the door behind him. His face was tense, his eyebrows knotted.   
  
“Oh, don’t grimace like that,” Severus warned him. “You know it gives you wrinkles.”  
  
Lucius pulled a face but quickly took a seat. “We don’t have any time for that nonsense today.”  
  
“Then why didn’t you Floo? Flooing would have been faster.”  
  
“Severus, this is serious.”  
  
Severus sat up, realizing it was. Harry curled in his lap. “What’s serious?” Lucius didn’t use doors, Lucius didn’t make faces that might cause wrinkles, and Lucius never took anything seriously. Well, he took _some_ things seriously . . . Severus stiffened, sucking in a sharp breath. “What does he want?”   
  
Lucius was silent for a long, wavering moment. “He wants—an introduction to the boy.”  
  
Severus’ arms tightened around Harry. “Why? What interest could he have in a useless little cat-boy? He’s not a threat. He’s not a weapon! He doesn’t even have claws and his so-called superpower is utterly dormant—if you weren’t merely lying about it in the first place. _Were_ you lying? It’ll go badly for you if you were,” Severus threatened through clenched teeth.  
  
Lucius shook his head. “It wasn’t a lie. And the Dark Lord merely wants to see him. You’d better take the boy to him. It’ll be considered betrayal otherwise. And then they’ll come for him anyway.”  
  
“I _won’t_.” Snape felt a sudden, boiling urge to lash out, to kick the chair aside and blow the table to splinters and lay his hands on Lucius Malfoy and rip him to bloody shreds, screaming defiance. “Let them come,” he spat “Just let them _try_.”  
  
Lucius sighed. “You’re not thinking clearly, Severus. If you fight them, he will . . . well, I don’t know what he’ll do. But it won’t be pretty. And he’ll hurt Harry. You know he will. Right now Harry’s just an oddity. A conversation piece, if you will. He’ll tire of him quickly. But if you make him angry, he’ll do everything in his power to destroy that boy.”  
  
Severus swallowed hard. Harry was warm and limp, his head resting on Severus’ thigh. He could take Harry and run, he supposed, but he’d never yet found a place where the Dark Lord couldn’t find him. He’d never been able to break away, and he’d tried several times. And he hadn’t had a helpless sex-kitten in tow then.   
  
“He’s giving you a couple of days. That’s—that’s generous, for him,” Lucius pointed out. “He could just come in with wand blazing.”  
  
A bitter smile crept like poisonous vine over Severus’ face. “But he wants me to give in. He wants me to choose the consequences myself. He wants me to ache over it and worry and _succumb_ , because I know there is nowhere to run and I have not the strength to fight him. He wants to bask in my bitter choice.”  
  
Lucius was silent for a long moment. “Do you think he’ll hurt the boy?”  
  
Shrugging, Severus looked down at the sleeping form. “I’m not entirely convinced he can _be_ hurt. He likes everything, you know. Strictly out of curiosity, we’ve tried pins, wax, whips and clamps, and frankly, at this point, bondage only bores him.” Severus stroked Harry’s tail, letting the glossy fur slip through his fingers as he reminisced about their earlier lovemaking.  
  
Lucius sighed. “I do love a boy who’s up for anything.”  
  
“Yes. He certainly is a spunky boy,” Severus said dryly.  
  
Lucius blinked a little, then made a face. “Then you should really get him a flannel. It’s only going to itch if you leave him like that.”  
  
“The point is, I still don’t trust the Dark Lord.”  
  
“No,” Lucius answered quietly. “Nor would I.”  
  
Severus picked Harry up as Lucius got ready to leave. “Well, at least I have a little time to think it over. I might be able to come up with a way out.”  
  
Lucius frowned. “Do be careful. You’re playing a very dangerous game.”  
  
“I’m taking care of Harry. That’s _all,_ ” Severus insisted.   
  
Harry yawned and wrapped his arms around Severus’ neck, and Severus could feel the boy’s tail coiling round his middle. “Don’t worry, my little sex-kitten. _I’m_ the only one allowed to hurt you.”  
  
Harry stretched deliciously, blinking his ridiculously luxurious eyelashes at Snape, and purred softly. Still no words, but at least he was easy to understand.  
  
oOoOoOo  
  
When Severus returned from his labs the next evening, he found the front door ajar. His heart seemed to stutter in his chest; he’d put wards all over the house, and he’d been assured that he had a couple of days to make a decision!  
  
Grinding his teeth, he slipped his wand out and edged into the dark house. It was stupid to have believed the Dark Lord, and even stupider to leave Harry home alone. Still, he’d thought his wards strong and Harry was a menace in the labs, his lashing tail the death of more than one promising potion.  
  
Cocking his head, Severus heard breaking glass in the library and raced down the hall.  
  
“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”   
  
Harry was cornered.  
  
A masked, hooded shape loomed over him, and Harry hissed.   
  
“Don’t touch him!” Severus barked. “I warn you!”  
  
The Death Eater paid him no mind. It reached out and made a grab at Harry, who lunged. The Death Eater yelped and shook the boy off.  
  
“ _Reducto!_ ” Severus snarled, but the Death Eater vanished with a loud pop just before the curse hit him—or her. Snape hurried to Harry’s side. The boy was licking his chops, nonchalant, pretending Severus wasn’t there. “Is _that_ your awesome protective talent? _Biting?_ ” Severus demanded.  
  
Harry gave him a slit-eyed look and tossed his head.  
  
“Well, I suppose I should be glad there wasn’t more damage.”  
  
Harry hardly seemed to hear; he had gone to ground under the coffee table where he was batting at something shiny.  
  
“What’s that?” Severus said suddenly. It looked like a little copper ball with silver filigree. “Give it here.” Severus felt cold fear flood his gut; he remembered seeing something like it before. He tried to take the bauble away, but Harry, angry at the idea of having his toy removed, scratched his hand. Furious, Severus gave the boy a ringing slap and snatched the little sphere away.  
  
Harry yowled and scooted off to the sanctuary of the kitchen while Severus turned the thing over in his hands. It disintegrated, leaving behind a glittering residue. “An Orb of Obedience,” he murmured. Now the Dark Lord didn’t need to kidnap Harry; Severus would be impelled to bring the boy to him, whether he willed it or not.  
  
Severus’ only consolation was that Harry had not been the one caught in its spell.  
  
Small comfort, indeed.  
  
oOoOoOo  
  
Severus carried his pet, wrapped in a thick blanket, through the heavy snow. He tried to tell himself over the thud of his heart and the pounding in his head that likely nothing would happen to the boy. He wished he could convince himself.  
  
Regulus met him outside headquarters, a small cigarette pinched between two fingers. “It was one of the Lestranges that broke into your place,” he muttered as Severus approached. “Don’t know which one. Thought you ought to know.”  
  
Severus looked at him in consternation as the man broke away, letting his long strides carry him off in an aimless, ambling way. Well, wasn’t that interesting? Hitherto, Severus had not counted the man among his small number of friends. On the other hand, it was probably Harry who’d won Regulus’ loyalty; Harry had a tendency to do that.  
  
There were a number of stairs leading down to the Dark Lord’s antechamber, and Severus felt his knees protest with each and every step. Even so, he would not have put Harry down for a thousand Galleons.  
  
The Death Eaters all stood in a half-circle around Voldemort. Severus noticed that most of them stood about as far away from him as they could without being called on it. He felt his feet dragging as he walked up to the chair in which the Dark Lord sat, saying nothing.  
  
“I’ve brought the boy,” he said hoarsely.   
  
The Dark Lord looked amused, Severus realized with growing resentment. He knew his little charm had worked, and that Severus would not have brought Harry to him otherwise.  
  
Harry trundled in his arms, looking up at the Dark Lord from beneath a shock of dark hair, his face expressionless and his eyes round. “The boy . . .” the Dark Lord said. He reached out to touch one of Harry’s ears, causing it to flicker and flutter ticklishly. “What a becoming creature he is.”  
  
“Yes,” Severus agreed, wondering what the man wanted.  
  
“I’m told he’s much more powerful than he looks.”  
  
Severus could only shrug. “I’m told that as well.”  
  
“Put him down,” the Dark Lord ordered.   
  
For a moment Severus found himself paralyzed, arms tightening around Harry to the point where the boy let out a noise of protest. “Fine,” Severus finally managed. As he set Harry on his feet, he bent his head, lips close to the boy’s ear. “If you need me, call for me,” he begged. “Just say my name. I know you can do it.”  
  
He straightened, leaving Harry standing on his own, sucking the tip of his finger as he looked at the circle of Death Eaters surrounding him, his expression sober.  
  
“Come here,” the Dark Lord told him. Harry only stared, and the Dark Lord grabbed his wrist, yanking him close. Harry was beginning to frown in a way Severus was familiar with; he was feeling recalcitrant, sulky and disinclined to do as he was told.  
  
Suddenly Severus was shot through with fear at the idea that Harry would act up and get them both killed. “Harry,” he warned. “Be good.”  
  
Harry looked over his shoulder, his little moue a picture of reluctant obedience.  
  
“This way, boy,” the Dark Lord said, leading Harry toward the gaping maw of an open door.   
  
Severus didn’t realize he would have to be separated from the boy. “Wait—I thought—”  
  
“Sit down, Severus,” the Dark Lord commanded.  
  
Still under the influence of the Orb, Severus found himself cross-legged on the floor, fuming silently. How long would the thing work? Even with a potent charge they generally only lasted a day, at most. Nearly that much time had passed already. Severus watched resentfully as Voldemort yanked Harry along behind him. He felt a flutter of anxiety as the darkness swallowed the boy, and then the door was clicked shut behind him.  
  
The fun over for the moment, most of the Death Eaters dispersed. Lucius offered Severus a hand up.   
  
Severus found that he was literally quivering with anger. “What does he want with Harry, anyway?”  
  
Lucius arched a brow. “What everyone wants with him, I assume.”  
  
Severus balled his hands into fists, trying to make the shaking less noticeable. “I’ll kill him,” he spat.   
  
“Keep calm. We both know Harry is perpetually in the mood. And you said yourself that he’s practically incapable of being hurt, the little masochist. All you have to do is look the other way.”  
  
But Severus wasn’t capable of that—he never had been. He didn’t like to share, and he hated the thought of not knowing what was happening. And whatever Lucius said, he suspected the Dark Lord of wanting something of far greater consequence than carnal satisfaction—the man wasn’t human enough, for one thing.  
  
Severus stared at the door as though he could bore holes through the wood with his gaze. What if the man hurt Harry? Harry was utterly defenseless and had come to depend on Severus for everything, from food to protection. Pacing, Severus ran his hands wildly though his hair as his thoughts churned, his stomach following suit.  
  
The Dark Lord _never_ did anything for no reason. He never did anything just for fun—except kill and maim and torture.   
  
Severus whirled to face the door. He absolutely could not stand this. Whatever happened, he should do his damnedest to protect Harry. Poor little Harry, who could not even call for help.  
  
Just as Severus gripped the doorknob, ready to fling the door open, the entire room seemed to jump and shudder. Severus was thrown against Lucius and both men sat down hard.   
  
“What the devil was _that?_ ” Lucius croaked.   
  
Severus struggled to his feet again. “That—”  
  
“Severus?” a thin, frightened, entirely unfamiliar voice cried out. Severus ran to the door again and opened it. “Severus?” the voice said again, now soft and uncertain.  
  
There was a long, low bed in the center of the room. Harry huddled at one end, his face frightened and tear-stained. Severus hastened to scoop him up, but Harry cringed away. “What happened?” Severus asked. “Where are you hurt?”  
  
Harry just shook his head hard, sniffling.   
  
“What’s the matter? Where’s—where’s the Dark Lord?”  
  
Wordlessly, Harry pointed.  
  
Severus turned. Amid several singed pillows was a thin body, twisted almost beyond recognition. He swallowed hard. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, forcing his attention back to Harry.   
  
Harry hugged himself, looking shy. “I didn’t let him,” he confessed.   
  
Severus stared. “He—did he—”  
  
“I didn’t let him,” Harry repeated.  
  
“Oh,” was all Severus could think to say. “Come here,” he added, and Harry climbed into his lap. He held the boy close, feeling Harry’s frightened tremors start to die away.  
  
“Who’s side am I on?” a voice from the doorway asked.   
  
Severus turned to see Lucius smoothing his hair down, his eyes showing a bit more white than usual. “Isn’t that up to you to decide?” Severus asked with as much scorn as he could muster.   
  
“I suppose. Generally I go with ‘whoever is winning.’ Judging by the fact that you’re upright and alive, you seem like a good horse to bet on.”   
  
“Too bad you didn’t make that bet sooner,” Severus said sourly. “Voldemort is dead,” he informed the man, relishing the chance to say the name without fear of consequence.  
  
Lucius came in and looked down at the body in surprise. “How?”   
  
“Harry.”  
  
“Ha! I did try to _tell_ you he had powers.”  
  
“Stop gloating.”  
  
“Just like the first time,” Lucius noted quietly. “Only this time a cat-boy managed to finish him off.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Oh, you know. He said it was a creature like Harry who drove him from his body eleven years ago and nearly killed him. He was trying to kill the thing when the spell rebounded on him.”  
  
Severus gaped. “You never told me that!”  
  
“I’m sure I did.”  
  
“You never! I would have remembered something that significant! You _idiot!_ ”  
  
“I did! I distinctly remember telling you all about it last week at the Ministry fundraiser.”  
  
“That wasn’t me, you fool! I’ve hardly left the house since you gave me the little cat-brat! It must have been somebody else!”  
  
“It couldn’t possibly have been someone else; no one is as memorably surly as you are.”  
  
“I’m telling you, _it wasn’t me!_ ” Snape insisted.  
  
Harry yawned.   
  
Lucius looked thoughtful. “On reflection, there’s the slimmest chance it wasn’t you. It might have been Macnair.”   
  
“You’re a twit,” Severus grumbled. He looked back down at the body. “We should leave before the others show up.”  
  
Lucius nodded. “We’ll have to deal with them eventually, though.”  
  
“I know. But I’ve strengthened my wards and I’m fairly certain that with a bit of a head start, we could plant some ambushes and pick a few of the others off. It won’t be long before they give up, now that they’re leaderless.”  
  
Lucius grinned nastily. “I do love the way your mind works.”  
  
“For now, I’m going home. Harry’s had a trying day and since he managed to contain his rampant sexual appetite for an entire half hour at one go, I mean to reward him.”  
  
Harry smiled up at him. “Treat?” he said.  
  
Severus nodded curtly. “For once, you’ve done something to earn it,” he said.  
  
“Did he just talk?” Lucius asked.  
  
“Yes. I expect it’ll never shut up now,” Severus grumped, but stood, lifting Harry.   
  
Harry rested his head against Severus’ shoulder, sighing serenely. “Home?” he asked, looking plaintive and cross-eyed, his face close to Severus’.   
  
Severus scratched Harry behind one of his little twitching ears. “Yes. Let’s go home,” he said. He imagined having Harry in his bed—bound there securely, hand and foot—and smiled. “We can even play with a ball of yarn if you like,” he added archly.  
  
Harry purred in sensuous delight, and Severus reflected that sometimes—just sometimes—that was even better than hearing the boy say his name.


End file.
